


Thank You isn't Enough (But it's all you'll accept)

by MissTeaVee



Category: The Mandalorian (TV)
Genre: Cara and Kuiil learn about Mando culture, Gen, IG11 is here too, If episode 8 is very sad this is going to be my new canon thanks, Kuiil lives, Mandalorian Culture, Mando honors Kuiil, Mandos arn't wiped out, baby gets a name, guess what it's now a fixit fic!
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-12-26
Updated: 2019-12-27
Packaged: 2021-02-25 05:35:37
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,748
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21970771
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MissTeaVee/pseuds/MissTeaVee
Summary: After The Mandalorian and his friends escaped Navarro with the Baby.Kuiil is recovering from being almost-dead, and he doesn't understand why the Mandalorian is telling him to... stop climbing? He's in BED.
Comments: 30
Kudos: 317





	1. Chapter 1

“Kuiil stop climbing that!”

“Mandalorian, I assure you I am not doing anything except laying here,” Grunted the tired Ughanaut from where he’d been settled in the Mandalorian’s bunk. He appreciated the care and concern with which he was being treated, considering that he was recovering from what really should’ve been death.

Being shot mortally, dragged aboard the ship by IG-11, who’d displayed some incredible creativity by carbon-freezing his Ughanaut Master, holding him frozen in time until The Mandalorian and Cara Dune had returned with the Child… that had healed him. It’d been something of a day.

“He means the kid,” Commented Cara’s voice from where she was sitting against the wall. Kuiil pushed himself up just enough to see that the Mandalorian was attempting to pry the tired-yet-excitable child off the ladder up to the cockpit. “He named him after you.”

Surprise, warm in his chest. Kuiil watched the Mando and child until the warrior had the kid clasped to his chest and was turning towards the resting Ughanaut with an air that may have been bashful. Kuill could say little but “I am honoured, my friend.”

The Mandalorian tilted his head, posture still a little bashful. “You almost… well, you did die for me- my son, in a way. Thank you isn’t enough.”

“I did what was right, no more,” Said Kuill. He was pleasantly surprised that the Mandalorian didn’t argue the point. Just as well; Kuiil barely had the energy to utter ‘I have spoken’ with proper gravitas.

After a moment’s pause, the Mandalorian let out a long, exhausted sigh. “I’ll check in with the others, see if I can get the kid to sleep in the cockpit.”

“Aight,” Said Cara, still not moving from her spot. Kuiil hummed curiously, glancing at the hovering IG-11.

“Who are these ‘Others,’” Kuill asked. “Is the Bounty Hunter Guild Leader one of them?”

“No Master,” Said IG-11. “There are two Mandalorians in the cockpit, in addition to the one we are familiar with.”

“Other… Mandalorians,” Kuiil said to himself, amazed.

“Yeah, guess you missed all of it, being busy being frozen then not dying,” Cara chuckled. “Turns out our boy had a whole clan on Navarro, though he was pretty shocked that they hadn’t moved out ages ago. They were s’pposed to. The Imperials pretty much shat themselves over that, I tell you.”

“And some are on this ship.” Kuiil mused.

“Yeah, two, One’s a gal going off voice, the other hasn’t said anything,” Cara explained. “We’re waiting to get word from the other Mandos that they’re all off planet before we hit hyper. Karga stayed on Navarro. If he leaves he gives up leadership of the Guild, or something.”

Kuiil found himself incredibly curious, and wished that he could visit the two Mandalorians on the upper deck for the novelty of it all. There was the faint noise of someone climbing down the ladder, and he rolled to look. The Mandalorian he was familiar with, the little one that now shared the Ughanaut’s name bundled securely and comfortably against the armored chest by a soft looking harness. “Ah, so he’s finally settled.”

“My Clan mate suggested I try this Birikad,” came the reply. “She said it’d work best against clothes and not armor, but not until we’re in hyperspace.”

“That’s fair,” said Kuiil softly. “So, is he safe now? Of being wanted by the Imperials?”

“I’m not sure yet, maybe. It’ll take a bit of time before any bounty hunters after him learn that the Bounty is no longer active. At least Greef Karga will be passing on that message,” There was a long exhale from the Mandalorian. “A lot happened today.”

“No shit,” Said Cara. “Mando, you owe me such a good drink when we find a bar.”

“Well-” The Mandalorian paused mid-sentence, then hummed to himself as if thinking. It was unusual for him, and Kuiil watched as the warrior nodded faintly as if deciding something. There might’ve been a glance in the Ughanaut’s direction. “I have a name. It is Din.”

“Din,” Kuiil repeated, giving the Mandalorian the same respect that had been given to him when he’d told the warrior his name. He understood that this too was a sign of respect and gratitude; Mandalorians so rarely gave out their personal names that many people believed they had none. Cara for her part huffed, then chuckled.

“Din, huh? Well, nice to finally put a name to the… face?”

A soft huff of amusement, the Mandalorian checking on the child strapped to his chest. “I can give you a very good drink now, if you want it, Cara. One of the boxes of belongings that got onto the Crest has a bottle that I don’t mind confiscating from the Tribe.”

“That is mine!” Declared a woman’s voice from the Cockpit. Din chuckled softly, lifting his head slightly.

“I’ve never known you to touch something that strong. We can say it got broken in transit to spare your ba’vod’u’s feelings.”

There was a pause then a noise from the cockpit that sounded like assent. Din’s head shook slightly, and he went to rummage though a couple crates, coming up with a small glass bottle that was handed to Cara. The Drop trooper took it eagerly, inspecting the label. Din sank to the floor across from Cara, bowing his head, one hand coming up to cup at his adopted child’s head tenderly. Kuiil smiled to himself before rolling back into a comfortable position on the bunk, exhausted. Physically, he was nearly healed, but mentally he was still completely drained.

Maybe once he’d recovered some, he’d go up to the cockpit and investigate these two new warriors; family to his friend Din, who was the first Mandalorian Kuiil had ever had the pleasure of meeting, and who had far exceeded the expectations built up by legends and stories of great warriors.

But for the moment, Kuiil closed his eyes and slept.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ba'vod'u-Uncle/aunt  
> Birikad-Baby-carrier.
> 
> My original character is completely unnamed, but that's her up in the cockpit, complaining that Dyn's stealing the alcohol she'd never drink. Maybe I'll actually write one of the various fics with her featuring in it someday.


	2. Chapter 2

The Jump to hyperspace was what woke Kuiil. He rubbed at his eyes, taking stock of himself. He felt much better, rested, and more alert. It must’ve been some time since he’d fallen asleep. Carefully he shifted around to pull himself out of the recessed sleeping nook, testing his range of motion and finding it good.

When he was standing on his own two feet, he looked around the cargo hold. His Bluurgs were gone, of course, and he felt a pang of sorrow and longing for them. There was Cara Dune, sitting by the small kitchenette, curled up and likely sleeping by her posture. A Mandalorian he didn’t recognise was standing at Din’s gun safe, inspecting a blaster. He took in the sight, vastly curious. Their armour was something else; cloaked in heavy fur and leather, and it seemed that they wore a good deal less metal than Din. He wondered if this was the owner of the voice he’d heard earlier, or another.

When this new Mandalorian turned attention to him, Kuiil inclined his head politely. “Greetings.”

“Greetings,” she returned, a different woman’s voice than he’d heard before. He could feel himself being studied unhurriedly, and he decided to to do the same. Her helm was gold in colour, and shaped differently than anything in the stories Kuiil had read. Small horns lifted from the crest like a crown, and Eyes were formed from the visor, instead of the traditional T-shape. Was this how all female Mandalorians dressed, or was this gear was a signifier of rank? He supposed he’d find out when he saw the other woman. This one’s voice was measured and calm in a way even Din couldn’t match. She radiated a serene self-confidence that Kuiil appreciated. Her voice had been that of wisdom and maturity, though Kuiil did not think her old. Finally, She spoke again. “My _Beroya_ has spoken very kindly of you. He feels a debt that can not be repaid, though you would refuse it anyway.”

“I only did what was right,” said Kuiil, “And I need no more than his thanks.”

“Perhaps,” she said, head tilting slowly. “But it is more than many a person would do. You have my thanks as well, for what you gave to protect one of our foundlings.”

Kuiil nodded respectfully, even as her head bowed with similar intent. “What will happen to your people now?”

“To be Mandalorian is to be hunted all your life, hunter and prey all at once,” she said. “This is not the first time, nor will it be the last that we have to move our home. We intended to leave Navarro not long after he and the child fled the first time, however, the Imperials arrived with shocking suddenness.”

Kuiil nodded his understanding as she closed up the weapons cabinet, one blaster still in hand. She turned towards the ladder up to the cockpit, but someone was already descending it. Din moved with great caution, and Kuiil wondered if he’d been hurt during all the fighting. Once he’d turned though, Kuiil saw that it was the little one clinging like a Kowak monkey-lizard to Din’s chestplate, even in the carrier, that warranted the extra care. The gold-helmeted woman showed Din the gun, and he nodded once while taking it, then spotting Kuiil, he drifted closer to him.

“Good to see you up.”

“I am feeling much better now,” Kuiil paused as someone dropped out of the cockpit, landing hard on their feet. His knees ached sympathetically at the thought of such acrobatics. Cara jumped awake, grasping at her blaster, though no one jumped in response to her reaction. “Ah.”

This last Mandalorian, and undoubtedly the owner of the voice he’d earlier heard was geared in purple and greys. At first glance, Kuiil assumed that only her helmet was Beskar, and then he noted the shimmer from her greaves. Interesting, considering Dyn’s greaves were the only portion of his gear to not be beskar. Perhaps all the variation in the three here’s armour was mere stylistic preference, perhaps it signified rank, or some third thing Kuiil did not recognise as an outsider. He was greatly curious, but it was not the time for such questions.

Din held the blaster that the Gold-crowned Mandalorian had selected, offering it to the one in purple armour. As she turned, Kuiil noted that there was a headscarf wrapped around her neck, then up over the back of her helmet, hanging down a little past her shoulders. It had a weight to it, and there was a soft jangling now and then. He wondered about that too, mostly how the fabric stayed in place. The purple armoured one considered the blaster a moment, and then nodded, accepting the gun and tucking it into her hip holster.

“Thank you,” She said. “It’s a fair trade for the _Tihaar._ ”

“Maintain your hold on this one,” Said the Gold crowned one, her voice not-quite-censure. The purple one lowered her head at what was clearly a gentle rebuke. Kuiil didn’t think her a child, though her voice was youthful and energetic.

“Yes Alor,” She said softly.

“Sooo,” Said Cara from where she’d been watching. “You gonna object if I warm up some of your rations for us all, Din?”

There was a twitch, both female Mandalorians moving slightly, the younger’s head turning to look at the Silver-armoured Mando, while the other’s head cocked ever so slightly. Din, however, simply nodded. “Go ahead.”

“Awesome,” Said Cara, pushing herself to her feet and turning to open a storage locker. She caught Kuiil’s eye, and the both exchanged a thoughtful look at what that moment had possibly meant. Perhaps Din had broken some custom by telling them his name. She hummed, looking around. “Not sure how you three are gonna eat, but we’ll figure something out.”

“We’ll eat in the cockpit one at a time,” Said the purple-armoured one, moving to sit ungracefully on the floor. Din shook his head in her direction, checking on the sleeping child before carefully removing the sling and setting the baby down on the bed Kuiil had been occupying. The Ughanaut watched with interest as Din’s chest plate came off, and the baby harness was reattached to the Mandalorian’s now unarmoured chest. He caught a near-imperceptible nod of approval from the Woman in gold.

Cara had the rations reconstituted quite quickly. She tutted at Din about a lack of plates, which he shrugged off, pulling off his right cuisse and holding it out. Cara stared at him. “What, really?”

“Yes,” Said Din, tone tinged with what might’ve been humour.

“So,” Kuiil said, delighted despite himself. “The stories from the past of Mandalorians using their armour to serve food isn’t as mythical as one would think.”

“It is practical,” Said the woman in gold, though her voice too was tinged with good humour. Cara looked around at them all in disbelief, putting some food on the one of two available plates and turning to offer it to the purple-geared Mandalorian, who shook her head.

“I am not hungry right now, I’ll serve myself later, thank you.”

“Alright then…” Cara offered the plate to Din, ignoring his proffered piece of armour. Din wiggled the plate metal at her, possibly aiming to be slightly obnoxious. She rolled her eyes and handed it to Kuiil instead. Chuckling, the Ughanaut found a spot to sit and held the plate in his lap and watch as Cara glared at the Mandalorian holding out the piece of his very expensive armour to have mushy rations deposited on it. Kuiil could see the moment that Cara decided to call Din’s bluff, because she took a heaping portion and made sure that it covered as much of the inside of the thigh plate as possible. Din thanked her.

Kuiil chortled to himself. Din turned to the woman in leather and gold and deferentially offered her his armour and the food on it. She didn’t take it, tilting her head at Din until he spoke. “I’ll wait for the kid to wake up, feed him at the same time. Shouldn’t be too long.”

She nodded, and only then accepted the makeshift platter and climbed up into the cockpit with the food. Kuiil hummed, filing it all away in his head as he ate. The food was spicier than he would’ve expected and he looked at it a bit more closely. 

“These are not common rations,” He commented, “They are well-seasoned.”

There was a derisive snort from the Mandalorian in purple armour. “They’re acceptable. We make our own when we can. But I would’ve added many more hot pepper seeds if I were reconstituting it.”

“I do recall reading that Mandalorian fare could make a Coruscanti’s mouth spit fire,” Kuiil mused, to obvious amusement. “This is quite enjoyable for the novelty.”

“Yeah, pretty good,” Said Cara once she’d swallowed a mouthful, leaning over to look more closely at the Mando in purple. “So how’s it work when there’s two Mando’s in a room. Is he Mando One and you’re Mando Two?”

Din snorted in soft amusement, Kuiil glanced over to see that the other man had a water pouch in hand with a straw coming up under his helmet. “Most people don’t have that problem.”

“Silver Mando and Purple Mando,” said the woman lazily. Cara laughed at her. It didn’t escape Kuiil that the Mandalorian lass sat up a little straighter.

“I can’t tell if you’re serious.”

“We’re not the ones who come up with it,” said the self-titled Purple Mando. “But some people use the convention. You may call me Savii if you like.”

“Savii,” said Kuiil thoughtfully, noting that Din seemed startled. “Your name?”

“Yes.”

“Ah. I suspected there had been some disapproval when you and the other heard that Cara knew his name,” Kuiil gestured towards Din. “But I suppose not.”

“No, just surprise,” said Savii. “But if my Clanmate trusts you both with his name, then I will trust you with mine.”

“Thanks,” Said Cara, grinning and shaking her head. Kuiil agreed with her probable sentiment of not quite understanding the cultural context, but knowing anyway that honor had been given. “So, since we’re playing twenty questions, how would you introduce each other if you weren’t giving out names?”

“I would introduce Savii as a sniper and weaponsmith,” said Din, looking down as the bundle on his chest cooed. “I would probably be introduced as _Beroya_ , a bounty hunter.”

“Perhaps when she comes back down, you can properly introduce us to your third, if it is appropriate,” said Kuiil good naturally.

“She is _Al’Alor_ , our clan leader. Her name is used sparingly,” explained Savii, fiddling with a vambrace. “We call her _Alor_ , but she is not _your_ Alor, so that would be… rude for you to use.”

“Thank you,” Kuiil was delighted by the information. If it had ever been in any story about Mandalorians, it had been lost to time. He was incredibly curious, and it was easy to see that Cara wanted to ask even more questions, as did he. A lot of information had been shared already, and Kuiil didn’t want to risk offence by asking the wrong question. He recalled well Din’s offence the one time Kuiil had suggested he remove his helmet.

“Question for a question,” said Savii, turning to Cara. “You were in the Rebellion, and worked for the New Republic for a time, yes?”

“Yep.”

Savii nodded, fiddling with her gloves. “There are stories of some being recently who claims to have been part of a… now forgotten religion. The empire didn’t last thirty years, but in that time, these… _People_ have been erased. But have you heard of a person calling themself Jedi?”

Cara considered the question. “No. Now that you mention it I’ve heard the word but it doesn’t really mean much to me.”

“On that topic,” came the voice of the Woman in gold- the Clan Chief- as she descended the ladder, offering Din his piece of armour back. He accepted it and stood to go clean it. The Clan chief was looking to Cara, head tilted with curiosity. “Did the Rebellion truly use the blessing ‘may the force be with you’ prior to a battle?”

“... Yes…” Said Cara. “I figured that it means that… you are part of the fighting military force, may you fight as one, all that.”

“Hmm,” The woman in gold sounded… faintly amused at that. “Thank you.”

Cara nodded, evidently curious. For a time, the conversation flowed between the five beings in the ship, discussing what occurred on Navarro, Din asking Cara if she wanted to go back to Sorgan, or go somewhere else. He offered to spend some time with Kuiil, and help him capture more Bluurgs to make up for those lost. It was readily evident to Kuiil that the respect given to the Clan chief was not that of simply respecting a title, but that given to one who was trusted to make the right call as leader. When she spoke, Din and Savii fell silent, their heads turning towards her. When baby Kuiil finally woke, Din pulled the baby from his harness and spoke to him softly a moment, before carefully holding him out to the Clan chief.

The baby cooed up at her fearlessly as she held him with an experienced hand. Gently, she ran her gloved finger over his face and along his ears, clearly inspecting him. “He is healthy, happy and bright, despite the struggles you have had to care for him.”

A nod from Din, who seemed very weary as he thought about it all. “Thank you.”

“When the Tribe is situated again, you will present him to us officially,” the Clan leader finished. “Have you adopted him?”

Din’s shoulders slumped slightly in what had to be relief, but he shook his head. “I’ve had no witnesses who would understand the Gai Bal Manda, and…”

“Yes?” The Clan leader’s voice was patient. Finally Din spoke again.

“He ages differently, he’s already fifty, I don’t know if it would be-”

“Do you wish that he be your son?”

Kuiil watched the interaction silently, taking in the scene. Din; head turned bashfully away from his leader, though he was clearly trying to watch the child that now shared the Ughanaut’s name. The Clan chief; serene and watchful. Savii; leaning on her knees with clear interest. Cara; eyes sharp and curious. IG-11; standing quietly in the corner, taking it all in. Finally, Din spoke, shy yet firm.

“I do.”

“Then his age is irrelevant. He is an infant. If he outlives you, there will still be the Tribe, and he will know that he was wanted now, and that he will be wanted then. His age of maturity will come, perhaps long into the future, but there will still be Mando’ade, and he will be one of them.”

Din nodded, but didn’t speak. He was offered back the child, which he carefully clasped to his unarmored chest. The baby made a happy noise, reaching up and patting at his guardian’s helmet. Kuiil watched intently. Stories said Mandalorians took in others, that they could be any species, but seeing it was something different and new.

The Clan chief folded her hands in front of her, and gracefully lowered herself into a kneeling position in front of Din. “You have two witnesses now who will understand the Gai Bal Manda, and two further who will understand the intent.”

Din nodded slowly, focused on the baby in his arms. “Yes…”

There was a long moment, no one willing to break the silence, and then the baby made a hungry noise, looking around. Din chuckled. “In a moment, _Ad’ika_.”

He shifted slightly, gently taking a tiny hand between two fingers and spoke in the Mandalorian language. Kuiil didn’t understand the language, but the intent of this… Gai Bal Manda was impossible to mistake considering the previous talk of adoption. He heard his own (And ergo the baby’s) name amongst the jumble of word. Din switched to basic after a single breath. “I know your name as that of my child, Kuiil. Kuii’ka.”

Both the Clan lead and Savii murmured a sentence solemnly. Another moment of silence, and the baby whined, wanting food. Din laughed softly. “Alright Kuii’ka, We’ll eat.” He went to put more food on his makeshift plate, settling the kid into his baby carrier. As He moved up the ladder, Kuill thought the Mandalorian seemed much lighter, all at once.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Beroya- Bounty hunter  
> Tihaar- A strong clear Mandalorian alcoholic drink  
> Alor- Boss, Chief, Leader, Captain  
> Al'alor- Clan Leader, Combination of Aliit (Clan, family) and Alor.  
> Gai Bal Manda - Adoption vows.  
> Ad'ika- Child  
> Kuii'ka- Ika is a diminutive. Basically a baby nickname to separate the Adult Kuiil from the infant named after him.  
> Saviin- Violet (the color), yes Savii is named after that. Her adoptive parent was in a bit of a hurry when they named her and that was the first thing that seemed suitable for reasons.
> 
> I made the choice to not put the actual vow into this fic, since Kuiil wouldn't be able to pick out the individual words of a language he doesn't know.


End file.
